


all along there was some invisible string (tying you to me)

by hermionewrites



Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, I love amina very much... but also daisy/hazel, Post-Series, This is in fact Canon, bonus points if u spot the avalance reference from the thing that only slightly destroyed me, how daisy and hazel get together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26183413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermionewrites/pseuds/hermionewrites
Summary: December 1946A night like any other in Wells And Wong Detective Agency.orin which the inevitable finally happens
Relationships: Daisy Wells/Hazel Wong
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	all along there was some invisible string (tying you to me)

**Author's Note:**

> I finished the series and thought... well this is how within this canon daisy and hazel do in fact get together and the image of this fic came to me so vividly I had to write it out.

"We still need to let Bertie know we're able to come for Christmas at his, Harold just sent us a letter about it." Hazel mentioned absently, flicking through the letters in her hands. "I don't know what he'd do without Harold remembering to do these things." 

"Mmhm…" hummed Daisy in acknowledgement, her eyes still fixed on the case notes in front of her. 

"He's not the only one," Hazel muttered fondly, shaking her head. "You aristocrats aren't good for anything, are you?" 

At this, Daisy did look up, an affronted look on her face. "Hazel Wong!" 

"Daisy Wells." Hazel replied steadily, ignoring Daisy's outrage with a small smile. More than ten years of friendship had made her immune to the Daisy Wells Withering Look many others still wilted under. 

Daisy tsked. "You say that while I'm sitting here, look through our case notes."

"Case notes I wrote." Hazel pointed out, still sorting through their letters. Letters from Alexander and Amina both wishing them happy holidays (Hazel always made sure to get Amina letters for her holidays too). It was almost strange not to feel that old ache at the sight of Alexander's handwriting, that having settled into the same affection she felt for Amina's since they parted. She wondered if Daisy felt the same looking at Amina's writing. Actually, she thought, with a quiet laugh, Daisy probably still liked Amina better than Alexander. War had done nothing for Daisy's opinions on Alexander's arms. 

Daisy was still grumbling, not entirely seriously. "Yes… yes… you wrote them. Speaking of which, you know I can't read all your ridiculous codes, what do you mean by this scribbling?" 

Hazel rolled her eyes fondly and wandered over the table, leaning over Daisy's shoulder to read the bit she was pointing out. 

"It means the alibis don't slot together there. Honestly, I don't know how you managed to get through a whole war, as a spy, still not understanding half the code your own country uses." 

"Some of us had more exciting things to do in the war than sit at Bletchley Park, Hazel." Daisy said loftily, turning her chair towards Hazel slightly to face her. "I'll have you know I-" 

"Nearly died more than 17 times?" Hazel finished with an affectionate look. "Yes, you may have mentioned." 

Daisy huffed, but clearly couldn't hold back her returning smile. They both knew that really they were both just glad they were here to have these conversations together.

But now neither woman was speaking, Hazel abruptly realised just how close together their faces were. 

Hazel's mind flashed behind to the occasions they'd been in this position in the last couple of weeks. But this time neither of them pull back. Daisy's eyes flick down to her lips, and, though later Daisy will insist she leaned in first, they move together until their lips are touching, just lightly, softly. 

It isn't dramatic. It isn't like a scene from one of Daisy's novels. Perhaps a younger Hazel would have worried that that wouldn't be enough. But here, now, there are no fireworks, no climactic music. Just the soft sound of Christmas music on the wireless, the bustling sound of London at night and the slight gasp Daisy lets out against Hazel's lips.

For a moment it's overwhelming, her stomach dropping like she'd just jumped a cliff. But then Daisy turns fully her chair and surges towards Hazel, and it's such a Daisy-ish way to react that all at once Hazel's fall has ended, intercepted by something soft and familiar. 

As they pull back, pressing their foreheads together, Hazel wondered how she ever thought this would ruin their friendship. This wasn't a revelation, or a realisation. This was just Daisy-and-Hazel, Hazel-and-Daisy, co-presidents for life, the seal on a letter already written and addressed.

Maybe if this had happened back at Deepdean she would've been waiting for Daisy to shut the door on her along with all her feelings. Perhaps even then, when they were friends, Hazel's insecurities and internal comparisons or Daisy's distaste for her own feelings would have made this too complicated. But now, sitting in the office of the agency they own, under the flat they share, the future stretching before them, the future they will spend together, the world, and Daisy, couldn't seem any more open to her. 

They've spent too long loving each other to pretend this was anything but inevitable. 

Hazel speaks first, softly, breathing a soft sigh as her voice does nothing to shatter the moment they've made. 

"I had such a pash on you that first year, you know?" 

"Of course you did." Daisy says, her voice teasing as if she isn't looking at Hazel with a gaze heavy with the weight of more than a decade of affection, of prioritising one another over everyone else in their lives. "...I had one on you too." 

And then they laugh, first softly, then loudly, echoing through the room. They break away from each other slightly, and maybe the moment is broken now, but what Hazel has already realised is that that doesn't matter. Nothing about this is really that fragile anymore. She has always known Daisy was permanence in her life. Even when she thought she was dead, even when they were separated for years by war or espionage. It was always them. 

Even with the acknowledgement of the time period of their feelings, there is no 'lost time'. Over these years they've both changed. Their relationship has changed. They've loved other people. Daisy's pointed edges have been sanded down with gentleness, and Hazel has blossomed and toughened (she almost laughs aloud at the image of herself as a particularly hardy flower) to fill the place in the world and their partnership she fits so comfortably into now. But they were always there. In the end it was always them, in tightly clasped hands, in conspiratorial looks, even just in the automatic intimacy of a hand moving to brush snowflakes from eyelashes. This was home.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
